For the Lack of Anything Better
by Zevanna
Summary: The Title is for the lack of anything better, i really couldn't think of anything better...I'm no good at summeries...please read & review? it's rated for later chapters, and i'm not nice to my OC's. As a Warning.
1. Chapter 1

_Write, I'm just working on random stories. I have major writers block and this is how I work it out. Besides, I've wanted to write something about Larsa for a long time._

_Spoilers: Possible. If your not past the Sochen Cave palace yet, then most likely._

_Zaari was put in both for parts without Larsa and because I like putting in characters of my own invention. Well, I hope you like it and it makes sense…and I'm playing with the storyline a bit. ; P_

_FF12 belongs to it's creators and Squareenix. I don't own any of the characters but Zaari._

_Sorry about Spelling errors and if it's too vague or confusing then please tell so I can try to work it out. I'm not the slightest bit nice to Zaari (other then having him met the FF12 group), so I will warn you about abuse and worse later in the Fic._

_As for Zaari's look:_

_Short, dark hair that's spiked back a bit out of his face, his eyes are blue, and he's built small. Tinier then Larsa, and he's mistaken for a girl more then once. (Vague I know.)_

**Chapter one:**

It was Dark in the Lhusu mines. Everyone was down, with no engery to talk, bicker..or do much of anythng really. Everyone was set on finding this Penelo. It left little for a mind to do but think.

Thinking was the last thing Larsa Ferrinas Solidor wanted to do. He could not make himself think of anything productive. His thoughts refused to remain fixed on matters of the empire, the paperwork he still had to do, that he was neglecting in this venture. No his thoughts kept drifting to his brother.

Vayne could not…would not start this war! He couldn't have changed so much…in so little time could he? Or has it been a Fault of mine? Could…could he have changed so much…under my own eyes? How could I have ignored the difference. The Changes…

"I-is something troubling you?"

"…No." Zaari always asked things like that.

He is an…odd…person. He takes so much in stride, but then it is more to the fact he cannot remember much. And cares for less. Come to think on it, very little is known about Zaari. And Larsa has never met anyone so quiet as this boy.

"Really?" Zaari pressed even though Larsa has already said he was fine.

"Yes. Tis nothing." Zaari's look momentarily confuses Larsa. "Is…something wrong?"

"Sorry. Never mind."

With that Zaari left Larsa staring blankly after him. That conversation had had no point. Still, Larsa had felt like asking what was troubling Zaari. It could not be normal for a child his…their… age to have such empty eyes. And it left Larsa wondering if something was wrong with Zaari.

When they had first found Zaari he had been walking down a street in Bhu-Jurba, eyes downcast and almost totally ignored. He had refused help and looked panicked to be approached. Not much has changed in the short days since then.

It had taken a fair amount of talking to get Zaari to join them, for no reason other then he had no where else to go. And another sword arm is always welcome.

Larsa had something new to think about. No one should act like this. Feel like they had to disappear, like they could not be seen nor heard. Zaari acted like little more then an echo. True children should listen to their elders- a concept Larsa had only but a little trouble with- and it was polite to talk only when spoken too, but this…was a bit exaggerated in Larsa's mind.

Well, Larsa decided at that moment. I can see if I can't help somehow.

The problem was Larsa couldn't decide if it was for Zaari's benefit or his own. No matter. He'd work it out later. Right now he had to focus on the Magicite.

As for Zaari all these new people made him nervous. There was safety in numbers…or at least Zaari thought that was what was. To any case, "They" would expect him to be alone. Zaari had never cared much for people and so traveling with companions would help him get away. That was all Zaari wanted, He had planned not to talk to them.

Talking to Larsa had ruined that resolve. Still it had seemed appropriate and maybe if he were to say a few things then that Balthier would stop watching him so closely. His eyes were far too much like…no. Zaari shook his head. That wasn't his life anymore. No need to remember all that. Just lock it away. Try to forget it, Zaari, you can forget things.

Yet, it had occurred to Zaari that the only things he could not forget were those he truly wanted too.

_Sorry, I had hoped for this to be longer. Oh, well. I guess. Now I've got writers block on how to write the mine scene and how to add Zaari, well, I've figure it out. Not much else to do really. Kay, then. I hope people liked it. Review, please? Then i'm more likely to work on something..._


	2. Chapter 2

_Well, since I don't have much else to do I'll just write something random from Zaari's point of view…more like thoughts… Maybe I can think of something then...this does eventually become important but not right now and like i said i'm bored..._

_**I. Do. Not. Own. Anything. In. This. But. Zaari.** (And his nightmares…hehe…) Can't make it much clearer…I'll let you guess who Zaari's talking about…if you want too. Still nothing on the Lou su mines part, I may just make this it and go on…but I don't want too, but I do…sighs…well anyway, on with the chap!_

Darkness. I don't like it. I never have and never plan too. I realize I'm rubbing my arms. I know you think I don't but I do. It's my habit, what I do when I can't think of anything else…but I do know I do it. I have realized it and to be honest I've seen worse habits on the others. Much worse. But wouldn't you like to know?

I know you've seen them too. The marks. Fading scars…healing cuts. You think I did them to myself. That I hurt myself because I can or to make pain go away. But I don't. It's something I never understood. Why create pain to ease it? That would never work…could never work. Not for my fragile mind…It would surprise you I think, to know.

I know you've heard me talk to myself. I know that too. But I can't stop it. I can't help but sooth my own fears…no one has ever done it for me. But I can't tell you that.

I almost think you can see the marks…when I have broken my fragile mind and put the pieces back together…there are marks I am sure of it, but I can barely see them myself…then maybe only a stranger can find those little things…What would you say should I tell you…Would you say anything?

I can't tell you a lot. About anything. Because I can't. I'm not protecting the ones who did it. I'm protecting myself. That's what I've always done. I have too no one else will…and I have no words…nothing…I can't make my mind even think the words…I have nothing better…

I know you try to trick me and trip me up. But I know that. I've been tricked a lot. It's nothing knew and the people who did It are ten times crueler then you. You don't hold a candle to them. You want me to slip and say something I shouldn't. You'll have to try harder. Because I simply can't. I've trained myself, and others have helped train me. Not a peep will come out of my mouth…. I go over it with a fine-toothed come time and time again…no you'll hear nothing from me.

Violence and Threats won't work either. But you know that too. You know that I'm used to them. All I do is shut down and ignore them. You've seen it before. People like me. Some of the others maybe.

I know you know. I know you only want proof, but it's proof you'll never get. At least not from me. I have to protect myself. No one else will do it for me. I have no one to hide behind. I have to hide within myself. It's the only safe place I have…somehow I don't think you know that…

Your going to look anyway aren't you?

_That I actually like so I think I will post it. Please, Please, review I like this style and want to know what other people think. But I've been up all night, from like 7pm to now almost 5 am, and I'm not really tired, well, I am but not enough to sleep, still…anyway, enough of me. Please, Review? Pretty please? Gives puppy eyes Bet no one knows who'd he's talking about!_


	3. Chapter 3

_I was hoping someone would guess at the last chapter, and I had to change it, I just don't know how to write character center things. But anyway, this is the next part. 3rd person, as it's the easiest to write. Bleh, I'm not really hyper, and not feeling so hot…so I can't say when the next update is._

Lamont seems to have found what he was looking for. Balthier has to admit he's curious. What would a boy his age want with Magicite? But he has other problems. While to be honest he doesn't really care much about Zaari, caring took far too much effort and he doesn't want to apply it. But there was something decidedly off about the boy.

Asking would be the high point of rude. And Balthier had not been raised to be rude…then again…Balthier had been raised to be an upstanding member of the Arcadian empire, a judge and to help his father with his work.

And where was he now? A Skye pirate with a crazed Bangaa following at his reels. Rude? No, to the point. But he didn't have to get anyone else's attention. Besides, Zaari…was an interesting case to be certain…and one that was best handled with care… Balthier has the worst feeling he knows why.

"Zaari?"

Zaari jumps like he's been struck, but doesn't stop rubbing his arm. That's irritating but people have to have ways to calm themselves. The more of a nervous wreck the more annoying the behavior.

"Yes?" At least the boy doesn't stutter.

"How old are you? Why were you wandering the streets of Bhu Jurba? Aren't your parents going to be worried?"

"No." Zaari shook his head, but was more concerned with the ground or anything but the one talking to him…Balthier sighs, how often did they have to hit you for you to learn to act like that? Childern did not need that kind of treatment, they would see it often enough as adults...

"No? To which question or are you not answering at all?" Practice kept annoyance out of his voice…but dealing with the people hurt by his father's greed was vexing. Not his fault, not their fault…but it was just the same.

"I don't have parents." Zaari answered risking a quick glance at Balthier but refused to remain looking at him. "So _they_ can't be worried…"

"Is someone expecting you?"

Zaari shakes his head but doesn't answer. Well, it's better then telling a lie… that this child is no good at it anyway. That's going to need work if he intends to live on his own.

"Hmm, I was under the impression someone was." Balthier adds, looking at the far wall. "Or do you look over your shoulder out of habit—"

Before Zaari could answer or Balthier ask more bluntly, the name Draklor came up. Now Balthier switches his attention back to Lamont.

"Errand all finished then?" He asks crossing the room to where Lamont is looking at the walls.

"Yes, Thank you. I shall repay you shortly."

"No, you'll repay us now. We've got to much on our hands to go on holding yours." Dealing with one child is enough. "How do you know about Draklor, where did you get the sample you carry?"

Lamont backs up and intends to walk away, but escape is prevented. Balthier used to be a judge; he knows how to get information from people like Lamont. Lamont indeed, why not say your real name now, eh?

Lamont opens his mouth but doesn't get the chance to say anything.

"You kept us waiting, Balthier." The last voice Balthier wanted to hear sounded from behind him. At least now he could vent his frustration. He was not about to strike either Lamont or Zaari, least of all the latter of the two. Zaari had seen the back of too many hands, and a great lot of good it's done him. "First that judge now this boy. The whole affair has the smell of money about it. I may have to wet my beak a little."

Balthier turns to face Ba'gamnan, now with Lamont mostly behind him. One minute threatening the boy himself now protecting him. Skye pirate indeed. Of all the frustrating things he's had to put up with, Ba'gamnan is the worst by far.

"This thinking ill befits you Ba'gamnan, keep your nose in the trough where it belongs." Good verbal warfare this Balthier could win.

Lamont looked from Balthier to Ba'gamnan then tossed his Nethicite sample, catching the bounty hunter off guard. Then he ran.

_I'm going to skip to the next part, cause I don't really remember what happened after this and I managed to botch the talking anyway. Eh. I should be working on Flawed emeralds but the next part is taunting me. It's just outta my reach so to speak. Spelling! I can't seem to get it right tonight. Eh. I know people read, but no one reviews? I shouldn't complain I do it myself. At least it's getting read, right? _


	4. Chapter 4

_I cut the whole leviathan part. I just remembered it and don't feel like trying to work it in…bleh, I'm lazy. Okies. Another Zaari part, cause I feel like writing it. Kay, uh…I forgot the rest of what I was going to put. Ah, well. Enjoy the chap!_

_'He'- Zaari's tormentor._

_He- Zaari himself. I realized that might be confusing._

--Start Flashback

Zaari's head hit the wall with enough force to blur the child's vision. There was no pain. Though Zaari could feel fresh blood sliding down his other wise pale cheek. Zaari had long sense lost much of the feeling in his body, though 'His' grip was threatening to pull out Zaari's hair. The pain would return on the marrow but for now that didn't matter.

'He' was yelling again. But Zaari's hearing has sense been muffled and Zaari himself doesn't care. He knows what's going to happen next even before the blade flashes. Before new pain make's Zaari's already broken mind reel. Another day. Another night. Another cut.

'He' hates himself and takes it out on the child given to him. Zaari can't remember what he did this time. A young mind is fragile at best and Zaari knows there's something wrong with his. It's shattered at 'his' hands far too many times and with each new occasion another piece is lost.

Oh. Now Zaari remembers. Today is the day 'He' lost his wife. Before Zaari's life got really bad. Before the beatings that left him bleeding on his bedroom floor. Before the attempts to get away.

Words like 'worthless' and 'ungrateful' add salt to the words. The thing that hurts the most is when 'he' blames Zaari for the death of his wife. When it was not. Or at least, Zaari doesn't think so. Thinking takes too much energy and 'he' has had his fill of tormenting Zaari's fragile being.

'He' says tomorrow Zaari will be leaving home. 'He' no longer wishes to deal with the child bleeding and broken in his grasp. Wants nothing to do with him.

The window is open and Zaari will likely get sick, but it makes no difference. If Zaari does fall ill, then it means peace until the fit passes. Then it is worse for several days.

Zaari tries to move, only to wince and clench his teeth, he knows better then to scream or cry, and that only makes it worse. Zaari thinks his wrist may be broken.

He will have to tend the wounds, but they can wait until morning. Zaari only wants to sleep.

---End Flashback

Zaari sits up and wonders for a moment where he is. Then remembers and lies down. He had been sent to stay with some people in Bhu Jurba. Then things had gotten worse. A broken wrist had been the worst of his troubles. After the change of location it become the least. But those are memories too dark for his fragile mind and they were tucked away, and hidden from himself.

"I'm okay," Zaari mutters for his ears only. "I don't have to go there anymore…I'm okay."

Zaari takes a few more moments to calm down; when he does he notices something about Rabanastre that's different from Arcades or Bhu-Jurba. It's cold. Very cold.

This puzzles Zaari until he no longer wishes to think about it. It is simply a fact to him; it's very hot during the day and very cold at night. Zaari's mind could not understand anything more complex.

"I'm going back to sleep." Zaari decides finally, still talking to some part of himself that rarely answers.

"You should talk to someone."

For a moment Zaari is startled. How long have you been awake?

"You never know…it may be that it will help you for the rest of your life…or that it will see justice served to the ones responsible."

Zaari only looks skeptical and curls back up to sleep. No one cares for people like him. That's why it happens. Zaari is not the only one. The others…they suffer too. Some run away. Some die. None live to be older then 16.

"What does Draklor mean to you?"

"Pardon?"

"You got mad when Lamon…Larsa, said it."

"Where did _you_ get those marks?"

Zaari is silent. He can't tell anyone that. He promised himself he would cause himself no more pain. He only wanted to forget.

_Okay. I liked. Kind of. I'm in a very neutral mood. And no this Fic has no pairings, and that up there isn't intentional…yeah, very iffy night and I'm getting sick…so I've been sleeping late…all day… but that's besides the point. _


End file.
